To Remember You By
by Vibhaa
Summary: Despite the victory of the Light Side, they were the wrong thing at the wrong time. War had just passed, and everybody had lost something or the other.


Hermione Granger hated the day and everything it had once represented.

She glanced up at the the gates briefly before making a double take.

Because the gates were adorned with white flowers, and they so coincidentally happened to be her favourite ones.

Stepping down from the carriage that the bride had specifically sent for her, she took a deep breath to steel herself for the figurative walk through Hell. She barely noticed Harry stepping off too, and seemed to stare at nothing in particular, lost, until he linked their arms together, and began leading her inside.

She suddenly wished Ron were here, too, the redhead having politely refused to come along after he was informed just where they'd be going.

The grounds were massive; there was no mistaking, of course. Hermione easily lost herself in deep thought as she look around, albeit warily. She hadn't the chance to look around the place the last time they'd been there, considering that they were in the middle of war, and were Snatched to here.

She shivered subtly, unconsciously smoothing her robes over her forearm.

"…for you, you know." Harry's voice pulled her out of her reverie.

She glanced up at him. His green eyes were trained on her, and he had that look on. The look that made her weary. The one that made her feel as though he could see right through her, as though he knew.

But that was just ridiculous.

Right?

"…right?"

Merlin, she'd lost him again.

She cleared her throat, as though not quite trusting her voice.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she began weakly. "I…haven't paid attention to you. I suspect its…because…" she trailed off, leaving the words 'we're here' untagged, knowing he'd understand.

Harry sighed, putting an arm around her, pausing their walk toward the more private grounds.

"I said I wished we didn't have to be here. And then, I said I was here only for you. After that, I asked if you were alright."

Hermione blinked.

"I'm sorry I wasn't listening. Like I said, its because of this place."

Harry smiled softly, "Is that why you haven't listened in the carriage as well?"

She didn't know what to say to that.

Harry chuckled at her serious face, "It's alright, 'Mione," and in a serious tone, he added, "We can leave if you want."

She sighed, her eyes flickering to the insanely grand stairs. "We're here already. We might as well get it over with. And besides, Astoria…"

Harry nodded, understanding, "Got to see him one last time, too." he said quietly.

Hermione looked at Harry, breath hitched, and wished her discomfort wasn't too obvious.

Did he…did he know something?

Harry only sighed, looking up at the manor. "Lets give her a wedding gift she won't forget."

Hermione didn't understand if he was referring to the last interview Astoria wanted of them before quitting her job, or the news they would make in The Prophet tomorrow.

Or something else, entirely.

Shaking her head, she pushed away those ridiculous notions and allowed herself to be pulled up the stairs.

It was a grand affair. The Malfoys had really outdone themselves, keeping everything beautifully extravagant.

She had noticed that the main theme was gold and white. And that the aisle was a deep burgundy.

She shifted a bit, glancing around with her breath hitched.

If Harry noticed, he didn't show.

A soft tone started to play, effectively quieting everybody.

She noted the way she perked up at the music, and then had to keep her expressions in check.

She watched as the Ministry Official entered.

She watched as the Groomsmen took their places.

She watched as the Best Man walked in.

She watched as the Groom sauntered over the slightly elevated platform in the front.

She noticed that his tie was silver.

She watched as the Bridesmaids gracefully made their way up the aisle.

She noticed that they were dressed in lavender.

She watched as Astoria glided beautifully to her husband-to-be.

She noticed, that peculiarly enough, the dress looked familiar.

She blinked forcefully, shifting again.

The movement did not go unnoticed.

Silver eyes pierced into hers.

She stared back, daring him to do something.

Anything.

He merely turned his gaze to the bride.

That was when she truly felt it.

Rage, so strong, so powerful, she could have burned down anything in her way.

The nerve of him.

How dare he?

She was really, truly, utterly angry.

And yet, she watched helplessly, hating everything right then.

She hated that her heart was dying.

She hated the world, its unfair ways, and its prejudiced people.

She hated that she shouldn't be here, but she was, listening to something that was dying.

She hated that it was all really over now, that he was marrying her, that he was going to be fine.

That she wasn't.

She hated that it couldn't be her.

She found her fingers suddenly and interestingly distracting, however, right when he was saying his vows.

She noticed that it sounded vaguely familiar.

She looked up when they were asked to kiss.

She noticed his eyes as they looked for a certain honey coloured ones, and not the bride's.

She felt her heart skip a beat.

His eyes never left her's as he bent down to kiss Astoria.

She thought she saw a glistening in his eyes, but he had looked away before she could process it.

It could have so easily been the light.

She ignored her bleeding heart as she clapped along with everybody else.

It was later, when she had slipped away from Astoria's questions for some air that had she bumped into him.

She had looked into his dull eyes, knowing, deep down, that they were going to remain like that forever.

That they would never show the brilliant shine, or the amused humor again.

Never again.

"Malfoy," she said, as a way of greeting, refusing to meet his eyes.

Then, without waiting for a reply, she stepped around him to walk down the hall.

She had taken as much as two steps when she felt his hand on hers.

She turned, slowly, unsure of whether to scream or cry out in self pity.

Or both.

"Hermione," he said softly.

She felt a familiar tug at her heart.

"Yes?" she said sharply, and then almost winced at herself. She knew she sounded cold; she couldn't help it. She could have been feeling a million things for him, but right now, the dominant one was hatred, because he had no right to do what he did.

There was a pregnant pause as he didn't say anything.

She cleared her throat, raising an eyebrow at him.

"You came," he said, eyes softening a little.

"Astoria invited us."

"Hermione…"

She waited. When he didn't say anything, she sighed, "I'm listening."

"I…I'm sorry."

She sighed again, her face softening. "Me too, Draco. Me too."

He sighed as well, interlacing his fingers with hers.

"Forgive me?"

"Yes, but no."

He looked up in confusion.

"Everything that happened between us wasn't supposed to, in the first place. It ended when it had to, and today, you did what you had to; I don't blame you. Astoria is a good person. Take care of her."

"But?"

"But…" she began softly, sighing.

His eyes searched hers.

"But you had no right."

"Huh?"

"You did it on purpose, right?" she asked him, her voice shaky.

"I…don't understand."

She stared at him. How could he lie right to her face, after everything that had happened? Her eyes prickled, tears threading to leak out any second.

She felt the anger bubbling back to life.

"Hermione? I don't understand."

That did it.

"You don't understand? What don't you understand? The fact that you could have avoided our presence here? The fact that you could have given her a solid 'No.' to keep us…me…away? The fact that you didn't have to be so obvious? You know how much everything you included meant to me. Seriously, though? Why would you do that?"

He understood.

Tears were flowing down her cheeks now, undeterred as they were all along.

"The flowers. Your tie. The bridesmaids' dresses. Even the aisle! Astoria's dress," She sobbed louder, "It looked exactly like my sketching!"

She snatched her hand away and gripped his collar. He didn't even flinch.

"You set your wedding day as our anniversary! You used our song for the ceremony!"

She shook him, hard.

"How dare you?"

"You did everything I wanted for my day with you!"

Then she collapsed, her grip on him loosening suddenly, falling forward.

He caught her with ease, slipping his arms around her waist as she cried into his chest.

He breathed in the smell of her hair, so…homely as it had become.

He felt how they fit perfectly, as though they were made just for each other.

He reminisced in how he felt comfort when she was with him.

His heart went out to the times when she smiled at him as though he was the only man in the room.

He ached to feel the way he used to when he looked at her- the luckiest bloke on earth, not the shitty regretful, guilt filled, angry man he was today.

And would be, forever.

He held her tight, not ever wanting to let go.

He held her until her sobs had subdued.

She pulled away just enough to look at him.

He saw the questions in her eyes; she still wanted to know.

He took a deep breath.

"It was the only way I knew."

She stared at him, not quite understanding.

"It was the only way I could pretend you were my bride. By doing everything you had wanted on your day with me, I could pretend I was marrying you. I could pretend we existed. I could have you for the rest of my life and after."

He pulled her to himself.

"I wanted to remember you by."

Finis


End file.
